


The detective, the cat, and the bra

by Arienhod



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: It Was An Experiment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 19:49:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9008647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arienhod/pseuds/Arienhod
Summary: All Sherlock wanted was to conduct his experiment in peace.All Toby wanted was to be left alone to sleep.All Molly wanted was a nice lingerie.
All three of them were out of luck.





	

A soft click signaled the door was firmly closed, shutting off all the noise coming from other residents of the building. This was why he preferred Baker Street, Mrs Hudson knew she needed to keep quiet and not bother him when he was working on an experiment.

But alas, he didn’t have in his own flat what was required, so that required a short trip to a place that had everything a consulting detective might need to conduct a crucial experiment about elasticity of common rubber used in female garments after being kept in a freezer for an hour.

Well, he could find what he needed in Baker Street, but after last time his landlady caught him sniffing through her things she informed his mother. And that was not a conversation Sherlock was interested in repeating. Ever again.

After a quick pit stop to Molly’s bedroom, where he acquired a much needed piece of female undergarments and a pair of scissors, he went to the kitchen and promptly cut the bra in half. It was a tacky thing, black with pink hearts, and according to the tag made by someone named Victoria. 

The pathologist will probably thank him for getting her rid of the thing.

One half was tossed into the freezer, right on top of frozen beans, and Sherlock just sat at the kitchen table, and pulled out the few things he brought along out of his suit jacket’s pocket, when a strange noise made him look up and around the flat.

For a moment he was willing to believe he heard wrong, or that maybe it was noise from somewhere outside, but then it repeated again. And again. And again.

And instantly the consulting detective got up and marched to the sitting room. He knew who the culprit was, there was after all only one possible solution considering the flat owner was currently at work and unaware her living space is being used for experiments.

“You! Stop that!” he shouted, but got no response, and the noise continued.

Toby, the cat, wasn’t interested in the curly man and his need for quiet. He was sleeping, and that was far more important than anything except food.

Sherlock poked the feline, who only stretched his paws, before continuing his nap. The snoring stopped.

Sherlock nodded, pleased with a result, and the fact he didn’t have to shake the fat cat awake. Last time he did that it resulted in several scratch marks and Molly shouting at him, saying it was his damn fault because he was disturbing Toby.

Thinking he will not be able to continue his experiment in peace Sherlock returned to the kitchen. But he was sitting at the table for less than five minutes when the irritating noise started again. Honestly, the mouse that lived in the walls of Baker Street was less annoying.

With a huff he stood up again and marched back to the sitting room. Toby was still asleep on the backrest of the brown couch, only his head was now hanging down. And the snoring continued.

“I will inform Molly she needs to take you to the vet. Or possibly the pound. Stop that!”

The silence lasted for ten minutes.

That was almost enough time for Sherlock to do what he needed with the part of the elastic that was standard temperature, he suffered through another ten minutes of wheezing and squeaking, and that had left him with a few minutes until the one in the freezer was just right for his testing. 

Instead of poking around the flat, which he was told is a bit not good, he walked to the couch and lied down. From the time right after the fall he knew it was surprisingly comfortable, much more then the one he owned. But he also knew Molly would never allow him to swap them.

A few seconds after he settled down Toby got up on his paws and stretched, now awake. A glare Sherlock sent his way didn’t faze the cat in the least, instead he turned the consulting detective his back, raised his hind paw and started to lock his most private parts. Loudly.

Two hours later the flat door opened and Molly Hooper entered. She worked double shift to cover for a college that had a family emergency, and all she wanted was a cup of tea and a nap. Possibly a long bath.

She jumped and grabbed her chest when something big and dark caught her eye, and it took a moment for her to recognize Sherlock dozing off on her couch, her beloved cat sleeping next to him. It was a cute sight, but at the same time she felt strangely uneasy. Sherlock never came to her place without a reason, and she wondered what he destroyed this time, and claimed it was for science.

The answer came few seconds later when she entered the kitchen to put the kettle on and saw a very distinctive piece of lingerie on her kitchen table. Or to be more precise-half of the lingerie.

A loud scream startled the consulting detective, and his nap partner, and they both almost toppled off the couch. Within a heartbeat he was on his feet and rushing towards the source of the noise. 

His first thought was that Moriarty finally made his move after toying with them for months.

But it wasn’t his nemesis.

It was his pathologist. His currently extremely pissed off pathologist, if her facial expression was to go by, who was holding one half of the ruined bra by it’s cut off strap.

“How many times Sherlock? How many times do I need to tell you not to use my personal items for experiments? If you need something go out and buy that item in one of thousands shops around London. My flat, or more specifically my bedroom, is off limits.”

“It was just an old garment.” he commented, waiving his hand towards the item in her hand.

“I bought it two weeks ago and never wore it.” she snapped back.

Sherlock huffed at her words, “So you did not actually need it if you didn’t wear it yet. I took the item you didn’t require off your hands. You’re welcome.”

Molly gaped at him for a moment before letting the ruined bra fall on the tabletop. She marched past Sherlock towards the sideboard by the front door and rummaged through the drawer that contained everything from her spare glasses, the yellow bow she wore to John and Mary’s wedding, to receipts of her purchases. It took Molly a few moments to find the right one and she walked back to where Sherlock was still standing, obviously confused by her anger, and shoved it at his chest.

Instinctively he took it, and look at it to see what the piece of paper was and why it was important. And then he saw the final price.

“Why in the world...? That is just a scrape of cotton? Why?”

Molly would have been amused by his reaction to the price of a single bra if something else hadn’t been bothering her since she noticed her lingerie on the table, “Forget ‘why’. I want to know is where is the rest of it?"

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to, and inspired by, my snoring cat.  
> It was supposed to be a short ficlet for Tumblr, but all this just sort of... happened.


End file.
